


I don't want to lose myself (it's a pity to appear this way)

by glitter_bitch



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Crying, Grief/Mourning, Hospitals, M/M, Martin Blackwood deserves better, Minor Character Death, The Lonely - Freeform, The Web - Freeform, but I'm not going to give it to him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:29:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23411692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitter_bitch/pseuds/glitter_bitch
Summary: Martin's been told how it all ends. He doesn't like it.(Takes place between seasons 3 and 4)
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	I don't want to lose myself (it's a pity to appear this way)

The thing that hurt most about Elias’s revelation was that he already knew. He already knew his mother hated him, and he already knew why. Martha Blackwood’s alzheimers had gotten significantly worse in the past few months, and she had called him by the wrong name more than once in the few times he’d managed to make it past the front desk to see her. The last time she had thrown a vase at his head. Maybe he didn’t know the extent of her hatred, but he knew, nonetheless. But here he was two months later, no less angry, and hurting even more, if possible. The knowledge of her malice was no balm. 

The care home had alerted him of his mother’s transfer to the hospital, and he managed to sneak his way in so he could hold her hand as she passed. She was asleep- she refused to see him while she was awake- but it wasn’t a peaceful passing. Not for him. And with that last breath, Martin’s circle shrank once again.

It would be one thing if he’d had someone to talk about it to, but Tim was long gone, and Sasha… well Sasha was even longer gone. Basira wasn’t the type to talk to- she only listened out of pity, and while Melanie had been friendly enough at first she was rapidly spiraling (was spiraling even an okay word to use anymore, he wondered) into distrust, much like Jon had.

Jon… well Jon wasn’t going to make it. He knew he’d better steel himself to the fact now. Now, before he was completely alone, apart from Mr. Lukas. And he didn’t count for much. Martin found himself wandering the antiseptic halls of the hospital, meandering towards the wing where he knew Jon was held. Certainly one last goodbye couldn’t hurt? Not when he’d already lost his mother. Surely that was penance enough to the Lonely to warrant a short conversation with one so close to death?

He stopped in front of the door, and decided that if Peter and the Lonely were dead set on him not seeing Jon again, they would manage to stop him. The handle turned easily and he took it as a sign, an allowance from a cruel god.

The door swung open silently on well-greased hinges. Jon lay on the bed hooked up to a dozen different machines. The burns from the explosions had mostly healed, leaving faint scars in their wake, and he was still breathing, but only barely.

Martin took a seat next to him in a chair identical to the one he’d been in minutes before with his mother. He brushed a few small cobwebs off of the bed frame with disgust. Even in this state, they couldn’t leave Jon in peace.

“It’s been rough with you gone, Jon. It’s going to be rough, I mean. The doctors aren’t sure… well, Mr. Lukas is sure that you’re going to die at least. There’s not a lot of comfort in that though.”

Martin sighed and buried his head in his hands. “What’s the point of it all, Jon? What’s the point of caring if it all gets ripped away? What’s the point of getting bruised and beat over and over and over if it all amounts to nothing?”

He pulled his hands away, wet with tears. “I  _ miss  _ them, Jon. The old times when I could make a cup of tea and everything would be better. I miss Tim and Sasha. Even Daisy sometimes.” 

He reached out and loosely gripped Jon’s hand. It was limp and warm, just like his mother’s. “I miss  _ you _ , Jon. Do you hear me? I miss you, you… you bastard!”

A fresh bout of tears welled up and trailed down his cheeks. “I miss you.”

Martin stood, wiping tears away with the sleeve of his sweater. He brought Jon’s hand to his lips, ignoring how much he knew Jon would hate it. It didn’t matter now. His window of opportunity was drawing to a close, and this would be his last chance.

“I love you, Jon,” he said, gently placing the hand back, more careful than he’d been with anything in his life. “I love you, and I’m so, so sorry.”

The door shut as silently as it had opened, and Martin left, the weight of grief growing with every step. 

Grief, Peter Lukas had explained, was the sign that there was still weakness left in him to destroy. As Martin walked, he wondered, not for the first time, if the strength was worth the humanity lost.

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the song "It's a Violent Yet Flammable World" by Au Revoir Simone
> 
> Comments are greatly appreciated :)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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